Snake Skin

by CJ Lyons

  "I've been thinking."

  "Always a dangerous thing," one of the H-tech guys chimed in from the peanut gallery.

  Taylor ignored him. "If Ashley got a new phone a few weeks ago, she probably got a new email as well, you know something anonymous like Hotmail."

  "Okay."

  "So, why would she do all that unless someone told her to?"

  Burroughs blinked then nodded. "Sonofabitch. Do you have her old emails?"

  "The AOL account hasn't been used in over three weeks," Taylor said eagerly, wheeling his chair over to plop down a stack of printouts in front of Burroughs. "Here are her emails for the last two months."

  "It will stand out. He'll only use it the once," Burroughs said, already skimming back through the pages.

  "And it will probably be from an untraceable source like a cyber café," Taylor added, taking half the stack.

  "But with a name she'd recognize and trust." Both men were silent for a moment as their pens scratched over the transcripts of emails.

  Jeezit, kids talked a lot about nothing, Burroughs thought, going cross-eyed at the lines of inane messages about music and weather and characters from Shadow World.

  "I got it." Taylor stabbed his pen through the page, impaling it upright.

  "Who is it?"

  "Draco598. From an internet café. He says, call me and lists a number." Taylor was already reaching past Burroughs to use the computer terminal, his fingers dancing over the keys. He shook his head, clearly unhappy by what he was seeing. "No go. The phone's untraceable, prepaid cell. Bought with cash."

  "Draco was the name Fegley used in the online game he played with Ashley."

  "You sure he's not our guy?"

  "Trust me, this guy isn't capable of swatting a fly. But…" He trailed off, remembering what Guardino had told him about Shadow World, the online fantasy game Ashley had lost herself in. "It had to be someone else from that game, someone who knew Ashley had a thing for Fegley—"

  "You mean Draco."

  "Whatever. Can you check out the names—the real names, like on this planet—of the Shadow World players?"

  "Already started." Taylor beamed, his exhaustion faded. Burroughs couldn't help but smile at the younger man's enthusiasm. Christ, he didn't think he'd ever been that young or naively optimistic.

  "Hey, Taylor." Taylor jerked his head, his eyes not leaving the screen, his fingers never pausing in their rhythmic labor. Burroughs slid the donuts over to him. "You did good, kid."

  In her dreams, Ashley had been underwater. It was still dark, but cool, so much better than the stifling stench of her waking here and now. The water had been her friend, she could move anyway she wanted, free of pain or fear.

  Then something hit her body. Slapping her awake.

  Before she could respond or wonder, another object thudded against her, then another and another. She screamed, flailing her arms, trying to kick the writhing, coiling, spitting creatures away from her. She'd come awake trapped inside her greatest nightmare.

  Snakes. Raining down from above. No matter how far she moved, they kept on coming, sometimes just one or two, other times a whole group. As if the heavens above had opened up and released the wrath of God.

  She cried and pled with the unseen puppet master who delighted in torturing her. "Stop it! Please, please." Her voice was worn down to a shadow of a whisper. "Please, I'll do anything."

  Her answer was a coiled mass of reptilian flesh hurled at her face.

  Snakes surrounded her, biting her flailing limbs, whipping their bodies against hers. Anytime she moved, another sank its teeth into her flesh.

  Curled up in a ball, arms wrapped over her face, she no longer dodged the reptilian missiles, merely flinched and shrugged as they pummeled her.

  An awful thought occurred to her. At first she banished it, it was too awful to imagine. But she couldn't ignore it, not as snakes curled around her swollen ankle, crawled up under her pant legs and shimmied down her neck.

  "Daddy?" She dared to peer into the darkness above. "Daddy? Is that you? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please. Daddy?"

  A torrent of a dozen serpents was her only answer.

  "What do you want?" she tried one last desperate gamble. "I'll do anything. I'll strip naked, I'll suck your cock, I'll—" She paused, trying to imagine what a pervert would want from her. "I'll let you fuck me. I'll do anything, just make it stop!"

  Thunk, thump, thwack. More snakes hit their target, hissing in anger. She moaned and rolled on the ground, trying to dislodge them, only to land in another coiled mass. The chain jerked, halting her movement.

  "Please."

  Her pleas went unacknowledged. Her invisible God continued to hurl snakes down on her, she couldn't say how long it lasted—minutes, hours, days? Time had lost all meaning.

  Finally she curled into a tight ball, no longer flinching while the snakes explored her warm body. She didn't even feel it when they bit her. Didn't care as they slithered beneath her clothing, their cold, dry skin pressing against hers, their tongues tasting her sweat.

  She drifted away for the longest time, not feeling a thing…not a thing.

  She became nothing.

  Chapter 24

  Sunday, 10:23 am

  Megan's laughter carried from her room two doors down as Lucy emerged from the restroom, still shaky. It was the sweetest sound Lucy had ever heard. She closed her eyes, listening hard, imprinting the sound on her memory. A gift to be unwrapped later.

  A sudden image of Melissa Yeager, so beautiful and helpless to do anything for her daughter, flit through Lucy's mind. She choked on a sob before swallowing it down. Megan wouldn't have to worry about going through this alone. Nick and Lucy would never abandon her. Not like Ashley's parents had.

  Ashley. She couldn't forget Ashley—not while Lucy was her only chance.

  The desk clerk waved at her. "Mrs. Callahan? I have Dr. Scott on the line for you."

  Finally, a chance to get some answers. "Hello?"

  "Mrs. Callahan, I'm so sorry that I haven't had a chance to get up there and meet you in person, but I wanted to call and fill you in on Megan's condition."

  "You found out what's going on? Why she's sick?"

  "No, I'm afraid it's one of those good news/bad news situations. Her CT confirmed an enlarged spleen and liver, but it didn't reveal any other abnormalities other than several axillary lymph nodes."

  Axillary—that meant armpit. Wasn't that where Hodgkins' Disease started? Lucy hugged her free arm around her chest. "Are you telling me she has cancer?"

  "No, no. I'm telling you that there are some worrisome symptoms, but that so far we do not have any confirmation of the cause. It could be as simple as a virus or infection—"

  "Or it could be cancer."

  He hesitated, obviously not appreciating her blunt style. "Well, yes."

  "So what's the plan?"

  "I'm going to repeat some of the blood work in the morning. And by then we should have some of our other tests for infectious diseases back. If nothing shows up or if anything looks worrisome, then we'll need to discuss the possibilities of a lymph node biopsy."

  Lucy's breath escaped her in a whoosh that made her head rush. She sagged against the counter. "More tests but no answers."

  "I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do for now."

  "If it is," she swallowed hard, "cancer, can you treat it? Have we caught it soon enough?"

  "Depending on the pathology, I'd have to say Megan's prognosis would definitely be favorable. But nothing is for certain until we know exactly what we're dealing with."

  Lucy was silent, trying to process the information.

  "I'll come up as soon as I'm done here in the ICU and go over everything with your husband and Megan. But in the meantime, I didn't want you to be unnecessarily worried. All in all, the fact that we haven't found anything seriously wrong is an excellent sign."

  An excellent sign. But no guarantee. "Thank you, Dr. Scott."

  She was su
rprised to find Nick and Megan engrossed in a video game when she returned. Their household was not big on TV, instead focused most of their free time together on physical activities, reading, cooking, gardening, talking. Hopelessly old fashioned and out of touch with reality, as Megan constantly reminded them. As if spending actual face time with her loving parents was a punishment, unimaginable extreme cruelty.

  Yet, here she was, gleefully teaching her father how to zap aliens and strategize as they plotted their way through a labyrinth. Nick was stretched out on the bed beside her, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he concentrated.

  Lucy stood beside the bed, watching, wrapping one arm behind Megan. She asked Megan to pause the game while she filled them in on what Dr. Scott had told her.

  Megan quirked her mouth, considering the new information. "No needles until tomorrow?"

  "Unless something changes."

  "Can you be with me when they do the test?"

  "We'll ask Dr. Scott to be sure, but I'll do my best."

  "Can I have a kitty when we get home? I read that pets boost the immune system so people don't get sick so often."

  Nick looked away, one hand covering his grin. It was so typical of Megan to consider all sides of the problem and quickly turn it to her advantage. Lucy rumpled her hair, drawing a look of disapproval.

  "No pets," she gave Megan the same answer she had for months. "Not until we get settled and you show that you're responsible enough to take care of it yourself."

  "But, Mom..."

  Lucy's heart squeezed in agony. God, it was so hard to say no when Megan turned those big, dark eyes on her. Especially when she'd been so brave and when she was so sick. Megan had never had more than the stomach flu before now.

  "We'll see."

  "All right!" Megan bounced with triumph and grabbed her remote. "Come on Dad, I'm going to kick your butt."

  "Not if I blow away all your goblin hoards."

  The screen filled with an explosion of light and zapping sound effects as lightning bolts criss-crossed. A few minutes later a tinny version of Taps sounded.

  "Dead again, Dad," Megan crowed, bouncing in a makeshift victory dance. "Want to come back as a mutant zombie or start the game again and be human?"

  "I was trying to get killed. Zombies have way more fun," Nick said. He reached his left hand up, stroking Lucy's arm. "You okay? They brought a lunch tray if you want anything to eat."

  She glanced over at the two trays sitting on the windowsill. Megan's was empty except for what looked to be remnants of a chicken finger smothered in ketchup and mustard, the "adult" tray with its roast beef slathered in congealed gravy was barely touched. "Thanks, I'm fine." She squeezed his hand, silently asking him the same question: are you okay?

  He considered the answer for a moment, their eyes locking behind Megan's back, and slowly nodded. But his smile had vanished.

  Megan reset controls on the game. There was some complicated scrolling and clicking until she was satisfied.

  "Did you teach yourself how to play this?" Lucy asked.

  "Sure. It's easy."

  For a twelve-year-old. Lucy thought of Shadow World, the game Ashley had buried herself in. "So the computer generates all the scenarios, makes all the decisions?"

  "With just the two of us, yeah," she said, leaning to one side as she piloted some kind of sled pulled by were-wolves through an ice field. Rumbles and crashes of falling icicles reverberated from the speakers as she dodged deadly shards and avoided falling into chasms. "But you can also play with a group, have one person set up the universe, control everything."

  An evil cackle sounded as an army of vampires attacked. Megan deftly out ran them, leaving in her wake a frozen track of holy water that vaporized any who followed. Nick was hunched forward, waiting for the right moment to unleash his mutant zombie.

  "How does that work? Does the person in control just set things in motion and everything is decided with a roll of a dice? Or could he set things up differently for different players? Customize it?" A glimmer of an idea was forming as she watched Megan and Nick fall under the spell of the game. "Could they maybe even communicate with individual players?"

  "A conversation with God," Nick mumbled as his zombie tackled one of the werewolves and began to eviscerate and eat it. Complete with slobbering sound effects. "Sounds like fun."

  Both he and Megan were silent for a moment, fighting their way into a dark cavern, scattering hoards of goblins.

  "Look out above!" Nick shouted, almost bouncing off the bed. A swooping form of a vampire bat filled the screen, quickly followed by cries of pain and the funeral dirge. "Ah, Megan, eaten by the Queen of the Vampires, what a way to go."

  Megan flounced back on her pillows. "Better than being a carrion eating zombie."

  She released the controls while Nick re-set the game. "If there's one person in charge," she said, "why wouldn't they try to make it harder for some players, the really good ones, and make the game last longer? Doesn't that make it more fun for everyone?"

  Which was exactly the opposite of what the creator of Shadow World had done. Lucy stared at the screen, now filled with character options and world building suggestions, neon colors spinning and flashing as Nick tried various combinations.

  Shadow World was designed to attract female players, Bobby Fegley had told her. Yet, in the end, the domain master had eliminated all but one player—Ashley. What had he called himself? The Maestro.

  "Megan Constance Callahan, you are a genius!"

  Both Nick and Megan looked up in surprise. "Why? What'd I do?"

  "I think you may have just helped me crack this case."

  "That girl you're looking for? Ashley?"

  Lucy hugged Megan hard, making the pulse ox machine sputter and alarm. Nick quieted the monitor. "I have a new idea that might help me find her. Thanks to you." She grabbed her cell phone and dialed. "Taylor? How'd you like to do some field work?"

  His adrenalin buzz crackled through the handset. "I'd love it. What'cha need? Should I get my vest, sign out any weapons?"

  "Sign out a vehicle, bring your laptop and meet me in front of Three Rivers in ten minutes."

  "Will do!"

  With the opportunity to take action, to actually accomplish something more than waiting in dread for answers she couldn't control, Lucy felt a little better.

  She hugged Megan again, mussing her hair and earning a scowl. "I'm going to leave for a short while, but I promise, I'll be back tonight. Is that okay?"

  "You're going to go find that girl? Because of what I said?"

  "Yes. I hope so."

  Megan's sly grin returned. "Does that mean I can have my own computer? Maybe I can help some more."

  "No. It means you may have just helped save a girl's life. How's that make you feel?"

  Her face lit up, freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose. "Kind of good. Like Christmas morning. Is this how it always feels?"

  "Yes." Lucy's smile mirrored her daughter's. She kissed Megan's head. And for the first time in months, Megan didn't pull away. "Every time."

  She slid off the bed and reached for Nick's hand. "You okay with this?"

  "You heard the doc, they won't know anything more until morning. Go, you're wearing out the floor with your pacing anyway." His voice was lighthearted but brittle. The wrinkles forming at the edge of his eyes betrayed him.

  "Seriously, Nick, if you have a problem with this—"

  He stood, blocking Megan's view. "I don't have a problem with you finding that girl, trying to save her." His voice dropped. "I do have a problem with you wearing yourself ragged and coming back with nothing left to give your own daughter."

  She understood his words but knew there was more to it. Nick never picked a fight unless he was certain he'd examined all sides of the equation.

  "Megan, honey, go ahead and set up a new game. Your father and I are going to be right outside."

  Megan looked up at that, a bemused grin on her face. "You can fight he
re. I don't mind."

  "We're not fighting, sweetheart," Nick said in his calmest voice, syrupy with a hint of his Southern accent. The one he only used when they were fighting. "Your mother and I just need a little private discussion. That's all."

  "Whatever." Her attention turned back to the computer game. "You'll be back tonight to stay with me, right, Mom? You promised."

  "I promise. I'll be here tonight." She kissed Megan on both cheeks and her nose, earning a familiar grimace and eye roll, then walked out into the corridor and kept going until she hit the stairwell. Nick followed her without saying anything until the door slammed shut behind him.

  "What was all that about?" She whirled on him, her voice low but powerful enough to bounce from the cement block walls.

  "It was about you always needing to find another kid to save, another crusade to fight. If the worse is true, if Megan has—" he faltered. "If she's sick, then we're going to be in for the fight of our lives right here."

  "You think I'm using work as an excuse to avoid reality?"

  "Yes. You think if you save this girl, you'll gain some protection, somehow be able to keep Megan safe as well. We call it magical thinking."

  "I don't need any of your psycho-bullshit right now, thank you very much."

  "Say you save this girl, Ashley. What happens when you lose the next one or the one after that? Where does it stop? You can't save them all."

  She stared at him, not even realizing her gun hand was resting on her hip where her holster would usually sit. But Nick did. He glanced down pointedly at her hand before enveloping it in both of his, stilling her trembling.

  "You can't save the world, Lulu," he said, his voice filled with longing and sorrow. "But you can help your daughter get through this. And me. You can help me. I need you. We need you."

  His face was filled with concern and fear. How could she explain to him that without her work she wouldn't have any strength to lend to her family? Being out there, seeing what she saw, doing what little she could to stop predators, it wasn't something she wanted to do, it was something she had to do.

  She had no words to offer him, nothing rational that he could analyze without twisting it around and turning it into nonsense. All she could do was shake her head, small little beats of denial, her gaze locked on his, hoping he would understand. Tugging her hand from his, she stepped away.